So, you know when you put off writing about something for a long time, say, maybe two or three days, and then a ton of other things happen in your life, just day-to-day, and then you don't feel like writing about whatever it was anymore? Well, yeah, that kind of happened to me.
Last weekend the Stanford Program went to Marseille, Aix-en-Provence and Arles in the south of France. It was a good time, naturally, mostly because of the fact that it was different from the drudgery and everyday-ness that has started to characterize Paris. Life tends to be like that. Once you get used to something, you need to escape from it just because it's too monotonous. Or maybe that's just me. I don't know.
But in any case, I think the best part of the south of France was how much it reminded me of Orange County. Now, I know, I know...I hate Orange County too. On principle, any way. But, I you see, Arles is like what Newport Beach wants to be...it's got those Mediterranean houses, the graceful hills and the peaceful sound of the empty countryside, without the unnecessary traffic and shopping centers and artificially planted palm trees (they prefer oak, here). So yeah, all was amazing. It was great to be reminded of home for a second, because, let's admit it, I am a little homesick at times (or else why go to Gap every once in awhile or sit in McDo for free internet and maybe some fries). The south of France is amazing, and if you ever get a chance to come to France, skip Paris (too touristy anyway) and go straight there. If you're into that kind of thing, anyway. Which I'm not (well, completely anyway).
So yeah, this week has been busy. I'm procrastinating right now, as perhaps Nick will remember I told him I was doing last night. Who needs to read a paper about the gender gap in voting in France when it's already been explained what that gap is (and when the paper is 20 pages long and in French and has these nice tables which are much easier to read). So yeah, la-tee-da. Had a good run this morning, my third run since arriving in Paris. I'm starting to get into the routine now, so I think things should start picking up. Another sign of progress: last night I had a moment when my host mom was speaking to me in rapid French and, as is uncharacteristic of my normal aptitude, I actually stopped being able to understand her. My brain just shut down and said in loud and screaming voix haut: I WANT ENGLISH NOW! They (our infamous authorities on everything from sex to the history of the state of Kentucky) say that's a sign that you're on your way to full fluency. I'll let you know.
Alright, so, such is my entry. I'm sorry there wasn't more about the south of France. There is more I would like to blog about, but, well, my brain is blanking and I have 20 pages of reading to do before the Opera tonight! Haha. Alright, have a great day!
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Oh, gay Paris! Frankly, I can only stand the place so much. The couple of times I visited, I became quickly bored, annoyed, even. Parisians have a tendency to be, well, rude. The stereotype is sadly true. But southern France! Ah, oui! C'est grande! There we sat in a restaurant during the World Cup a few years ago, basking in the jokes of Italians about Americans. It was a multi-cultural moment which has stuck with me forever. I do believe I fell asleep, and at some point we were gifted with a poster of our "better president, Clinton", but the memories remain as dreamy, and, well, good .
It sounds like you're keeping healthy, particularly running, so keep at it, become fluent, and for f-sakes, get some culture!
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